


Drabbling the Time Away

by hannahsoapy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dragons, Fluff, Forgiveness, Lesbians in Space, Quidditch, Sad Sirius Black, Unresolved Sexual Tension, portable swamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23942326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahsoapy/pseuds/hannahsoapy
Summary: Don't mind me, I'm just scribbling away over here.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	1. A Very Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> These are all unrelated drabbles I've written for various prompts, pairings, etc. This series will be marked complete, but more will be added as I write them!
> 
> Pairing: PercyOliver
> 
> Prompt: birthday

A rowdy crowd of people stormed into the pub Percy had holed himself in, all wearing the colors of a Quidditch team. Percy honestly wasn't sure which one, but obviously, these people had just come from a match, and it had gone very well for their team – or very badly. He could never figure it out.

Abruptly, the noise tripled in volume as the door to the pub swung open again, admitting what he deduced to be the team that had won (or lost). Percy merely slumped further down in his seat, wincing at a few particularly loud shrieks. Was there a harpy in that crowd?

"Happy birthday to me," Percy muttered, tipping the last of his drink into his mouth and setting the empty glass down on the bar regretfully. It was high time he got out of here.

He turned to slide off his stool and instead met the chest of one of the very, _very_ fit Quidditch players, who was looking at him oddly. Percy, uncertain what was going on, froze in midmotion.

"Did you just say it was your birthday?"

"Uh, yes," Percy said, wondering why the man looked so familiar.

"And you're –," the man looked around a moment, "let me buy you a drink!"

"I was just going," Percy said, feeling increasingly embarrassed as the man flagged down the bartender.

"Nonsense, it's your birthday," the man said stubbornly. "Least I could do for an old schoolmate!"

Oh, Percy realized, he knew _exactly_ who this was. Merlin, Oliver Wood had aged like a fine elven wine… and he wouldn't mind a sip.

"So, er," Percy began, nervously, as the bartender brought back over their drinks, "I take it the match went well?"

Wood's clearly stunned face told him that it had _not_ gone well (for his team), and Percy was about to make an awkward apology and bolt when he laughed.

"Lost by two hundred points," Wood admitted, and then, with a wink, "but I don't think I mind so much now."


	2. Silence and Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Sirius & Regulus
> 
> Prompt: alone

When Sirius made his way back down the stairs, all the worldly possessions he cared about in a magically extended knapsack on his back, it seemed like there was no one left in the house, although he was sure they hadn't left but were just waiting until he was gone.

The hallway that led to door, lined with the heads of Kreacher's predecessors, had never seemed longer or quieter.

When he finally stood staring down at the tarnished silver handle at the end of the hall, he paused, although there was no longer a decision to be made, nothing he could do to change the fact that he had been cast out.

Slowly curling his fingers around the knob, he turned to look one last time, and froze at the sight of his brother.

They looked at each other silently, for a long moment.

Sirius, for the first time in a long while, wondered if things could have been different between him and Reg. Was there something he could have done when they were younger, to close the rift between them? He was the oldest, after all. It was his responsibility.

He met Reg's eyes, trying to silently communicate that he was sorry, that he wished things weren't like this.

But it was much too late to think of mending rifts. Reg just glared at him and strode sharply in the opposite direction.

Sirius closed his eyes, and turned his hand.


	3. It's Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: DracoAstoria
> 
> Prompt: forgiveness

"What are you doing here?"

The words are harsh in the cold air, and he nearly flinches at his own voice. She just moves closer.

He shies away as she sits next to him, her thigh against his, but then she wraps her arms around one of his gently, and he gives up with an audible sigh.

She still says nothing, but when her head falls to rest on his shoulder a minute later, his throat clenches. Now, trying not to cry, he repeats himself.

"What are you doing here, Astoria?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He looks down at her, and clear, honest blue eyes meet him.

"I heard what they called you," he says, pressing his lips together in suppressed frustration.

"It's not true," she says, and the simple way she says it makes him angry.

"It is," he insists. "You're a Death-Eater lover."

"Oh, Draco -" she shifts, curling herself up more against him, "- that's not you anymore."

He almost laughs. "Try that on the rest of the world."

One of her hands reaches up, tilts his chin down. Her lips caress his, gently.

"I love you," she says, on a whisper. "I forgive you."

This time, as she settles herself against him again, a lone tear tracks its way down his cheek and into her hair.

Even if she's the only one that ever forgets what he did, he thinks, it's enough.


	4. Flying With Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Character: Charlie Weasley
> 
> Prompt: broomstick

"This is a terrible idea, Weasley."

"Hey, I won't be shown up by a fourteen-year-old, Erickson," Charlie said, swinging a leg over his broomstick and looked out over the meadow.

"That fourteen-year-old was _Harry Potter_ , and he had a _Firebolt_ ," Erickson insisted. "We work with dragons, you know how dangerous this is, and you're on a decade-old Cleansweep, for Merlin's sake!"

"Hazel here has never steered me wrong," Charlie insisted, as the broomstick in question gave a reassuring shudder.

Erickson sighed in resignation. "Tell me you at least have your wand?"

"Course," Charlie said, and flipped his arm around to show him his wand sitting its wrist holster. "Wish me luck?"

"Don't kill yourself," Erickson muttered, which was good enough. Charlie grinned and kicked up off the ground, picking up speed slowly as he hurtled towards the dragons sunning themselves at the far end of the meadow.

Most of them were too content to move, but a couple of the younger ones snapped at him as he whizzed past, and then when he looped back around, perked up with more interest.

He had to roll quickly when one of them sent a little tongue of flame up at him, and once he regained equilibrium, it was to see that he'd managed to get three dragons up in the air and looking very much ready for a chase. Charlie smiled and patted his broomstick.

"Let's go, Hazel."

It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. Charlie didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. He wasn't in any danger – well, any more than usual. The dragons seemed to be in as much of a playful mood as he was.

"You're a complete nutter!" Erickson shouted at him from the ground as he passed overhead.

Charlie, turning spirals with the dragons, just threw his head back and laughed.


	5. Not Really About the Hoodie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Dean/Seamus
> 
> Prompts: "I've never seen that look in your eyes before.", Flourish and Blotts, stolen hoodie

"I've never seen that look in your eyes before."

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin and looked up to see who was disturbing his concentration. It was the weekend before September first, so he'd thought the section with knitting books would be the most deserted in Flourish and Blotts, since everyone was buying their schoolbooks.

"Seamus!" he cried, smiling up at him from his spot on the floor. "Mate, how you been?"

He scrambled to stand, carefully setting his book – Quidditch Through the Ages, of course – gently to the side. Seamus moved forward, too, but then he stopped abruptly, and raised an accusatory finger to Dean's chest.

"Is that my hoodie?"

Dean looked down at it. "Er… no?"

Seamus was not convinced, probably because it _was_ actually his hoodie. Dean had been there the day Seamus gotten it, in fact, because they'd been together at the Quidditch World Cup, and it had been the last one the vendor had in maroon (Gryffindor colors), and Dean had patiently stood in line with Seamus for twenty minutes listening to him worry about someone else snatching it up before he could buy it.

"I can't believe you had it this whole time!" Seamus complained. "I missed it!"

"You were vacationing in Italy for the whole summer; why did you miss a hoodie?"

"Sometimes it was cold," Seamus muttered, but his face looked suspiciously red. "Why'd you nick it, anyway?"

Dean shrugged, trying to play cool and not like the heat was rising up his neck. "I dunno."

Seamus glared at him, but he was smiling a little bit, so Dean didn't feel that bad about stealing his hoodie.

"Whatever," Seamus said, and then tilted his head. "You get your books yet?"

"Nah."

"Well, c'mon then. We can split 'em."


	6. Rose and Gilt Pearl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Bill/Fleur
> 
> Prompts: gold, moving into a new home, iced coffee

The realtor had known what she was doing.

She'd unlocked the door to the cottage and then let them wander through it by themselves, not disturbing the charm of the place with talk of square footage, closet space, or price.

Fleur loved the house, and Bill could have hardly said no, especially when his wife twirled around the empty living room, exclaiming where every little thing would go.

Bill nodded along as if he were listening, but he couldn't hear a thing, not with the way the golden morning light shone in the wide windows at a perfect slant, shimmering streams reaching in to dance and play with Fleur's silvery hair.

"Bill? What do you theenk? You 'ave not said anything."

Fleur's voice tore him out of his reverie.

"I love it," he said, although he really meant I love _you_. Fleur heard it, though, smiling and blushing lightly, adding a hint of rose to gilded pearl.

"We will tell l'agent immobilier we want it, yes?"

"She's probably already guessed," Bill said, looking out the window onto the porch, where he could see the corner of the realtor's shoulder as she waited for them to reach a decision.

"And zen," Fleur said sweetly, moving beside him to take his hand and rest her chin on his shoulder, "will you take me for iced coffee?"

Bill laughed. As if she thought he'd ever tell her no.

"Yes," he said, turning to press his lips to her hair, "and then we will go for iced coffee."


	7. Portable Swamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Fred/Hermione
> 
> Prompt: being somewhere you shouldn't be

"Hermione?"

She jumped, turning quickly, with her hand on her wand, but it was only Fred. She relaxed immediately, and he snickered.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, with a sharp look.

"I could ask you the same," Fred said, with a sly smirk. "It _is_ past curfew."

"I'm a prefect," she pointed out, "and it's none of your business."

"Oh, I think it is. Someone told me my girlfriend was out here – seen her, little Miss Prefect?"

She rolled her eyes at him, but he only grinned and reached out for her hand. Hermione let him tug her into the loose circle of his arms, resting her cheek against his jumper as he dropped a kiss in her curls.

"Are you going to tell me what's keeping you up late?" he asked, a minute later. Hermione sighed.

"Everything," she said. "Are you going to tell me what prank George is setting up while you distract me?"

Fred pulled back and looked down at her. She looked back up at him innocently.

"Should've known better than to try." He shook his head, and then admitted, "Portable swamp right outside Umbridge's office."

Hermione pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him until he squirmed.

"I'll make sure I'm early to breakfast, then," she said at last. "Wouldn't want to miss the show."

The surprised expression on his face pulled a giggle from her, which caused Fred to look affronted.

"You little – " he leaned forward as if to steal a kiss, and Hermione squealed and twisted out of his arms, laughing as she ran down the hall with him close behind.


	8. Digestive Health is Very Important

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Ginny/Luna
> 
> Prompt: space

This was all Luna's fault, Ginny thought, running down the corridor with blaster fire whizzing past her ears. To be fair, it had been Ginny's idea to take George's new experimental spacecraft for a spin, but it was definitely Luna's fault that they had ended up as smugglers – and not even particularly lucrative ones! It was just that Luna couldn't resist to help anyone that was in genuine need, and Ginny couldn't resist doing anything that made Luna happy.

Even if it ended up with her getting shot at by weirdly dressed aliens in a galaxy far, far away from the one they were born in.

She rounded another corner, and finally burst into the control room, where Luna had been waiting for her, surrounded by the Stunned bodies of the crewmen.

"Come on!" Ginny yelled, grabbing Luna's hand and risking a moment to cast her eye back at the aliens with bad aim.

"Did you get it?" Luna asked as they ran, simultaneously pulling her wand out and throwing up a shield to deflect the blaster fire.

"One Mesulthusean Sparkling Rainbow egg, packaged up and secure," Ginny said, flashing a smile at her, and patted the bag slung around her shoulders.

"Brilliant," said Luna, as they dove to squeeze through the set of giant metal doors to the hangar. With a loud clang, the doors shut behind them, conveniently cutting off their alien pursuers. Ginny and Luna shared a smile of success and dashed towards their ship.

"They're not gonna follow us, right?"

Luna shook her head. "They'll need a new warp core and hyperdrive."

"I'm fairly certain neither of those are real things," Ginny said, handing her bag to Luna and taking the pilot's seat, flipping the switches to power it up. "But do tell me what other surprises you left them with."

She knew Luna had done _something_ ; her girlfriend was looking far too smug as she carefully put the egg away in the incubator. Somehow, Luna even managed to walk gracefully over to the co-pilot's chair while Ginny was accelerating the ship out of the hangar and into deep space.

"Well, from now on, their replicators will only produce plimpy soup and pumpkin juice."

"Merlin, Luna, I love you!" Ginny laughed, and Luna smiled back innocently.

"Why, because I'm looking out for everyone's digestive health?"

"Yes, exactly."


End file.
